Losing the Fight

Last night he called, upset about me ignoring him but apologizing for calling so much. Upset that i moved on and pissed because he couldn’t. I cried, I couldn’t hold it back. Said his mom just died and he needed someone he knew who truly knew her to share her memories with. He called me. I sat, listened, giggled and reminisced. He asked me why I was awake, told him I couldn’t sleep well again, that thoughts of him filled my mind, haunting me for hours at a time. He explained he never meant to hurt me, which only reminded me of how he said those exact words after each hurtful word and action throughout the years before us. Suddenly it all made sense, suddenly I didn’t hate him anymore. Just felt really sorry for him. Sometimes it takes a death to bring the best out of people. He spoke with compassion, so softly that for a second, I completely forgot our past. Time passed, goodnights were said and his last words to me were, I love you. What scares me now is his vulnerability. We, humans, tend to think the most destructive thoughts at our lowest. I’m afraid that his thoughts will kill him. More afraid that he’ll die alone. Looking pass my mentality and intoxication, as much hate that i set aside for him, I would never wish death on him. I’m sorry for your lost but don’t lose yourself, I beg you.

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